Written by Lost in a Dream
Tired of walking and eager to escape the stagnant heat of the late afternoon sun, Rose entered the cool interior of the café on the corner. The name was written in twisted gold metal above the large window and was rendered illegible by the vines which snaked around the loops of the text. She tucked herself away on a table in the corner, next to the window.
A waiter in a black shirt, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, placed a large opened menu on the table. She gazed over the menu for a few minutes. Salads, pittas, seafood and other Greek dishes. Angry with herself, she closed the menu. She already knew what she wanted: coffee, a distraction-free afternoon and perhaps an ashtray. Once again she was procrastinating, like she had been this morning, like she had been all week.
The waiter returned, and Rose gave her order. She placed her heavy black bag on the table and rummaged inside until she felt the familiar touch of a notebook and a scrappy wad of paper. She laid the items out on the table as neatly as she could and salvaged a couple of pens from the abyss that was her bag.
It was a new notebook. Turquoise with an elasticated band in a matching shade, holding the pages shut. There was always something ceremonial about opening a new notebook accompanied by an unrealistic desire to avoid defiling the pages with her scruffy handwriting. Rose wrote the date as best she could. Again, procrastinating. She would never be able to maintain this neat writing for the rest of the notebook and why was she writing the date? What kind of title is that?
A different waiter placed a tray on the table with a black coffee and a carafe of water.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked.
Rose shook her head. She poured a glass of water and stirred a single sugar into her coffee. No, nothing else. No more excuses, no more procrastination. It was time she wrote down what happened. As long as it was in her head, it did not exist. Writing it down would make it real. True, she had a handful of documents and photographs. But they meant nothing without the connections in her head. She promised herself she wouldn’t care for grammar or style for now, she could fine tune it all later. What she needed now was to make a start.
She picked up her pen again, crossed out the neatly written date and wrote a new title in her signature scrawl.
Procrastination was written on behalf of January’s half hour challenge, Beginnings. Lost in a Dream’s short piece perfectly suited March’s Reflection theme, and it’s something we can certainly all relate to when it comes to writing. Too many times have I sat down to write a journal entry, particularly after a difficult day, and not known where to start. Sometimes all we can do is write, and hope for the best. If you enjoyed Lost in a Dream’s work, you can view more of her superb writing with, ‘Star Talk ii’ and ‘Closure’.
Featured Image CC // Loren Javier